Thursday, August 30, 2007

I finally decided to buy a new Ipod to replace the one that I had that was stolen at work two weeks ago. After calling Fortress, Broadway and Designer Group, and asking the staff to check their other branches for stocks, it dawned on me that Ipod videos are SOLD OUT in all of Hong Kong.

Frustration.

So I went to Times Square to get some nice Puma shoes for myself and for my ex. I got there only to find out that the store was closed for renovation.

Frustration.

As soon as I got out of the mall, I called my friend, the ever-reliable shopping buddy, Lawrence and told him to meet me up at CK Fashion Island. I wanted to buy a bag just so that my trip to Hong Kong Island wouldn't turn out to be an utter waste of time and energy.

Then I saw a fruit stand that makes freshly-blenderized juices. I asked for a banana shake. The vendor realized, as she was about to make it, that their blender wasn't working. She gave me the banana instead and suggested that I just eat it while walking.

Frustration.

I walked in the CK store and two bags instantly caught my attention: a black canvas tote bag with leather handles & top piping, and which carries the CK pen that is their standard for this season's bags (Image shown below);

After about 15 minutes of deliberating which one to buy: the black tote OR the white duffel, I remembered what my friend, Steve (funny he once referred to me as "material girl" when he is the one who I am quoting now), once said: "Honey, we don't say OR, we say AND."

Not wanting another frustration for today, I said to the salesgirl: "I'll get both."

And so here they are, my newest roommates:

Now I understand why the Universe conspired to not give me that Ipod or those Puma shoes -- so that I could get the deer skin that I adopted a month ago, playmates.

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

Last week, Ellen*, one of my fellow dancers came rushing out of the stage after our final pose, pissed by a Chinese kid sitting with his mom in the audience. The kid was around 8. During the part where we, the dancers go up the bleachers to interact with the spectators, he reached for Ellen's hand and had her touch his stiff dick while he stared amusingly at Ellen's boobs.

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On Sunday, as I was on the train going home from work, I bumped into a Filipina domestic helper, Donna*, who spent a day at the park with the daughter of her boss. The kid was probably 6, and was playing with Donna's celfone. Donna asked for her fone back. The kid refused to hand it back. Then Donna raised her voice a bit to intimidate the little girl and said, "That's not a toy. Stop playing with it."

The girl started to cry and screamed at her, "No! Fuck you!"

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Every afternoon, a pack of little boys from my provincial neighborhood, their ages ranging from 5-9, gather together at the footbridge and collect big stones. Then they disperse strategically, almost like a SWAT team, around the vacant lot where dogs flock around 5pm. At their leader's signal, they throw stones at the dogs and scream "Tiu!" (shortened cantonese curse word which in English means "I will fuck your mother.") to their heart's content. The elders who see them just laugh it off.

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My generation grew up on morning TV shows like Sesame Street, Batibot, Flying House, Rainbow Brite and Mga Kwento Ni Lola Basyang. At 10am every morning, we were glued to the tv with shows that carried the Worry-Free Kid TV logo. There was no cable tv or the internet to "corrupt" our innocence. And yet, we grew up rebellious and with values & morals that the generations born before us think of as intolerable and worthy of censure.

Monday, August 27, 2007

A few hours after the sms argument I had with my colleague, I saw him at work on Sunday morning. I was smoking outside the theater and there he was, a few meters from me talking on the phone. A few breaths later, he hung up and sat beside me. I extinguished my ciggy and started heading for the door.

He said, "Hey, I'm sorry about last night."

I ignored him.

Fast forward to --- 5-minute call to places.

I was putting on my show shoes and then he came up to me and said, "Rye, I'm sorry. I really am."

"I don't wanna talk about it," I replied coldly.

"I want to."

"I spent too much energy this morning to come to work positive and smiling. I won't let you ruin it. If you really wanna talk, talk to somebody else about it. Not me." Walk out.

Fast forward to --- 7:40ish pm, just a few minutes before the volleyball game.

I got a lengthy sms from him that started with "Rye, I owe you an explanation." Wait a minute, just less than 24 hours ago, you said you didn't owe me, or anybody an explanation, didn't you? The sms was polite and apologetic in tone. The bottomline: he was drunk when we were on it. And when he woke up after that big drinking spree, he realized he crossed the line and that his being hammered was no excuse to act that way. And he felt bad because I am one of the very few people at work that he considers true friends. Good thing he realized that. But I don't care anymore.

He doesn't care, I don't care. We're even.

My reaction to the sms: "This is not the first time, ******. And your morning-after sorries don't justify your drunken rudeness anymore. Let's just forget this episode ever happened. And to save ourselves from more of these in the future, let's also just forget this friendship ever existed."

Shortly after, the referee blew his whistle to signal the first serve for the night.

Saturday, August 25, 2007

Not all dancers are capable of doing multiple pirouettes. And not all dancers are blessed with the heart and the guts to even try.

Be proud. Be very proud. You may not have achieved that extraordinary feat despite the many desperate tries, but you gave your doubles an elegant finish --- with laudable poise, grace and dignity. The audience applauds you more than those who did quadruples but ended with a collapsed back and a knee injury. You propped your foot with conviction on the floor; others just didn’t have enough strength to hold their passé leg. They presented their finish-in-fourth with a smirk while you did it with a genuine, contently victorious smile.

Remember what our teachers always say: “It’s not how many turns you do that measures the strength of your core and the proficiency of your technique. It’s how clean your single pirouette is.”

Friday, August 24, 2007

What time is my lunch break?When do I get to rest?What time will I work out?

I’m a brat at work. That, I admit. I could’ve made a big deal out of today’s schedule. I could’ve ranted and whined non-stop. But I didn’t. Ok, maybe I showed my disappointment for about 5 minutes, but that’s it. I snapped out of it faster than I could even say “snap”.

Thursday, August 23, 2007

It was a Monday night. I had been busy all day making beef stroganoff and mexican chicken wings while helping out our cleaning lady do her job to get things done faster. Dan was at work. Earlier in the afternoon, Dan met up with him and got him in the park. Chris was home, sleeping all day.

By 9pm, we were all seated around the dining table: Dan, Chris, him and me --- talking about life, love, family, blogging, career, friends and sexuality. Dan was cerebral in his questions, as usual while I was a bit more emotional. Chris managed to keep quiet all night, hiding his unusual shyness under the guise of being tired after pumping iron and playing with the treadmill. He answered the questions casually and matter-of-factly.

After a hearty dinner, 3 liters of wine, some jello shots, a few cans of beer and almost 2 hours’ worth of podcast material, we called it a night. Too late a night though for him to go back to the hotel. He decided to stay over.

Fun night! And more than the fun, it's been an honor for The Dan and Rye Show to have had in our studio our favorite listener (he insists he’s a fan, not a mere lurker) --- celebrity blogger and 1/3 of the troikasters --- Joel McVie.

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

Sunlight.. on Sunday.. after 2 weeks of sporadic rainfall of varied intensities.That's what I meant.

So I got up at 7am and headed right to the grocery store to pick up stuff I'd take with me to the beach. It was such a thrill to be doing groceries at that hour of the day --- no long lines, no cart bumpers, no loud-mouthed shoppers, and the staff looked fresh and a lot friendlier than usual. I was probably the first customer Taste serviced that day. It was quite entertaining to see the look on the lady-in-the-counter's face when she saw what my cart was filled with --- vodka and other sorts of alcohol and mixers --- at half past 7 IN THE MORNING!

At 8am, I was back home making jello shots and drunken strawberries.

Took a little refresher nap and headed to South Bay Beach by noon. It was my last weekend off for this set-days off cycle. The next time I will have that again, it will be winter already. There was no way I was gonna miss the beach. No way.

they just love those strawberries noel, derrick and me todd, ido and harold

michael and that sexy guy named tony the rainbow flag at south bay

The day ended with pizza, beer, and a few episodes of Sex & the City and Dante's Cove at Tony and Kevin's apartment.

Or the evenings we turned off the light and gazed at the aquarium while sipping spirits?

Remember our episodes of togetherness --- just you and me?

They're all gone.

Today, I am writing you this letter in hopes that maybe, somehow, while you're in the beach with your friends and your book and your alcohol (which seems to have taken my place in your life), you may think of me. And the wonderful moments that we shared when you were young, and not so busy.

I like for you to be still: it is as though you were absent,

and you hear me from far away and my voice does not touch you.

It seems as though your eyes had flown away

and it seems that a kiss had sealed your mouth.

As all things are filled with my soul

you emerge from the things, filled with my soul.

You are like my soul, a butterfly of dream,

and you are like the word Melancholy.

I like for you to be still, and you seem far away.

It sounds as though you were lamenting, a butterfly cooing like a dove.

Friday, August 17, 2007

On Wednesday night at Volume, I was asked four times by four different men why I'm single. One of them described me as having "an amazing body, beatiful skin, dazzling smile and a kind heart". Of course he could've been just sweet-talking. But it was still flattering, nonetheless.

Last night, Dan and I met a nice English boy (boy, literally. 17 years old) who played billiards with us. After a few sets of 8 ball and some beer, he introduced us to his mom and aunt --- very, very cool ladies who find homophobia a "bloody disgusting crime". Before we called it a night, they asked Dan and me WHY we are single.

On the train tonight from work, Chris brought up the topic again. And then I realized, I have been neglecting to attend to my self-assigned homework.

On that note, let me begin, here on, my introspective process.

And as a follow-up to the "Fire" intermission number I left in the first part of this series, here, very few ladies and gentlemen, is the hottest singing gay group from Holland...

Monday, August 13, 2007

I was going to write about the volleyball game I joined last night. But I decided to postpone that entry. The reason being...

Over lunch today with Chris, we somehow got to talk about whether we were ready for a relationship. No, not Chris and I together in a relationship. Whether we, both single individuals, were ready to find somebody to commit to. He initially sounded excited by the thought of having that somebody; but somehow, he ended up saying no.

I couldn't remember how I said my piece. Maybe because I haven't really thought about it and I wasn't so adamant with my answer as I would've wanted to be.

So I am taking a while to think about it. And while I'm in the process, allow me to leave you, my friends, with a very special intermission number...

Friday, August 10, 2007

After receiving the announcement that our afternoon shows were already cancelled and that we were to leave work pronto, Dan and I decided to go on an impromptu shopping in Mongkok. In took us less than a minute after getting out of the train station to realize that even business establishments closed down and that everybody (probably except us) was rushing home. We headed towards the ladies' market anyway, which looks like this on a regular day:

This is what we found instead:

Ghost town. Well, not really. There were a few people on the street --- half-naked, hunky chinese and middle-eastern men running back and forth, trying to save their merchandise from getting wet. Quite a sight, I should say!

We decided to head to Langham Place. It's a mall, for crying out loud! It's made of concrete and the engineering is quite advanced. We were sure it wasn't threatened by the scare of a typhoon. In Manila, in our younger years, and even until now, as soon as the teacher announced suspension of classes, everybody heads to the mall. We were wrong. That's not the case in HK.

It seemed like there was no other option but to go home and just spend the afternoon sleeping. We got in at around 6pm and started to make sotanghon for dinner. A few minutes later, I got an sms from Joseph, the manager of Volume which read:

Typhoon party tonight at Volume! 2-4-1 drinks extended until 12!

Ok, I must admit, that was quite enticing. But because of what I had witnessed earlier on, I was just scared to go out. So I didn't. And I was thankful I didn't go, despite Chris's eager invitation to go with him. A few minutes later, we got news that the train service has stopped because of the inclement weather. Lawrence, a friend of mine, was in Central station and took this video:

It's a bit of a bore how HK welcomes tropical disturbances. I grew up in Manila where typhoons flooding were nothing extraordinary. I grew up seeing roofs flying in the air with the strong wind and trees just collapsing in the streets. I remember watching the news one stormy afternoon when I was a kid, where the field correspondent had herself tied to a post while reporting on-cam so as not to be blown away by the wind. The university I went to was on the street that flooded after just an hour of continuous downpour. I have walked more than 2 kilometers going home from the university, half of my body submerged in dirty, murky, smelly flood --- along with a host of other people: fellow students, faculty, robbers, snatchers, employees, etc. (and along with other elements as well. i.e., a dead rat, a swimming dog, and a drowning cat). It was gross! But it was fun.

My french ex-boyfriend witnessed this once and he said nothing but: "It's like Disneyland!"

After a month-long break, Dan & Rye are back! Season 2 opens with a new OBB and the duo share their new happenings in Hong Kong plus other new stuff in the show. Results of the season 1 survey are also revealed.

Tuesday, August 07, 2007

At around 4pm, I was brought to an office where I was supposed to file a loss report. The woman who received my report asked me how, if they ever find a "white 30Gb Ipod", they could make sure that it was mine.

I gave them the following points:

1) the Ipod name was Ryeness.2) I could furnish them a copy of the serial number.3) the first three songs were: "A Brand New Day", "A Brand New Day" and "A Brand New Day" (different versions, of course)4) I could enumerate all 25 episodes of "The Dan & Rye Show" in the podcast folder.5) I could enumerate the contents of the movies folder. All 40 porn flicks.

I want my Ipod back! That was my renewal gift for myself last year. That, and a Tiffany necklace, which I've also lost some 3 months ago.

Here, ladies and gentlemen, is my employment contract until September of 2008.

After about of month of anxiety brought about by the contract renewal, I received the verdict on Thursday, August 2. My boss presented to me the contract and asked whether I wanted to take it home with me so I can study it further. With much delight, I said to him, "No. I'll sign it right now."

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My ex-boyfriend's mom and sister enjoyed their HK visit. I think I was able to fulfill my tour guide duties to them --- something I volunteered to do so that "ex" could do his shopping without worrying about them.

The five rehearsals that we had planned to have before Friday night got reduced to two. But we did well in the show. In fact, very well that the general feedback was that it was a mistake to put me and Chris in the show as back-up dancers. The crowd watched us more than the singer. Of course, what could be a better gauge as to how much people liked us, than the never-ending photo op? Photos from the Friday show will follow as soon as Chris grants me the permission to put them up.

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There couldn't have been a better way to end and celebrate my most dreaded crunch week than a Sunday at the beach. It was raining (not drizzling, raining) earlier on yesterday. But at about 2pm, the skies started to clear up and the sun finally showed his face. My jello shots and drunken strawberries were so loved --- they got consumed in less than 10 minutes! Well, except for the lime-flavored jello shots. They were horrible! But they were consumed too, nevertheless.

Oh yeah! There is indeed a better way to celebrate.

I finally got the dark brown deer skin CK bag that I've been salivating for, for two payday cycles already, but which I promised to myself, I will never buy until I'm sure I'm staying another year in HK.

Pardon me for being too self-indulgent, but I looooooooooooooooooooove my life!

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P.s. Just one more thing to be excited about ---

I woke up this morning with a message from Joel McVie, saying that he has already emailed me the new OBB for Season 2 of The Dan & Rye Show. Thanks, Joel! I looooooooooooooove the OBB. And I love you too! ;-)

Sunday, August 05, 2007

It's drizzling. It's partly cloudy in HK and there's a tropical storm over the central part of the South China Sea.

My beach friends are thinking of not going to the regular Sunday rendezvous anymore in South Beach Bay.

It's 11:45am, and I'm still sitting in my room thinking what to do.

I've had a hell week. Last night, I made jello shots and fruit cocktail to bring to the beach today. I've been looking forward to this day with much eager anticipation. Dramatic as it may sound, today was the only thing that kept me going all week.

Why should I let the clouds stop me from going? I won't. No.

It might rain later today. But I won't let the clouds rain on my parade. NEVER.

Thursday, August 02, 2007

After all that's been said and done, I find solace in knowing that I have loved somebody with all my heart and with all my might. And in knowing that once in my life, the kind of love that I was able give was all that mattered to you. It was all that I needed to make you happy. To give you shelter in the storm. To wash away your worries and make you believe that everything will be just fine. To put you in a deep, sweet slumber at the end of the day. And to give you strength to face another gruelling day ahead of you when you awake in the morning.

My pains have long ceased to exist. And the scars are now but faint marks of a seemingly distant past. I have stopped crying long before I sent you the sms on June 5th. The last tears that fell from my eyes are now just fragments of a bitter past. A past that is not even bitter anymore.

Thank you. Because of you, I am a better man. A better lover. A better friend.

Thank you. Because of you, I found out how much love I am capable of giving. And how much love I can receive in so many different ways.

Thank you. Because of you, I now understand better the impermanence of everything. And how I should cherish every moment while it lasts, rather than be daunted by its demise.

Thank you for the talk that we had on Nathan Road tonight. Maybe there really is no more new beginning for us. At least we have something to begin our happy ending with.